Leander, that I may be able to hold in reality the greeting which you sent to me in words, come!
§19.3Longa mora est nobis omnis, quae gaudia differt.
Every delay is long to us, which postpones our joys.
§19.4Da veniam fassae; non patienter amo!
Grant pardon to her who has confessed; I do not love patiently!
We are burned with an equal fire, but I am unequal to you in strength: I suspect that the character of men is stronger.
As the body, so the mind is weak in tender girls — add a delay of but a little time, and I shall fail!
You, now by hunting, now by cultivating the genial countryside, pass the long hours in various pursuits.
§19.11Aut fora vos retinent aut unctae dona palaestrae, §19.12Flectitis aut freno colla sequacis equi; §19.13Nunc volucrem laqueo, nunc piscem ducitis hamo; §19.14Diluitur posito serior hora mero.
Either the forums retain you, or the gifts of the anointed wrestling-ground, or you turn with the bridle the neck of the compliant horse; now you draw the bird with a snare, now the fish with a hook; the later hour is diluted by the set-out wine.
§19.15His mihi summotae, vel si minus acriter urar, §19.16Quod faciam, superest praeter amare nihil.
To me, removed from these things, even if I should burn less fiercely, nothing remains to do except to love.
§19.17Quod superest facio, teque, o mea sola voluptas, §19.18Plus quoque, quam reddi quod mihi possit, amo!
What remains I do, and you, oh my only pleasure, I love even more than what can be returned to me!
§19.19Aut ego cum cana de te nutrice susurro, §19.20Quaeque tuum, miror, causa moretur iter; §19.21Aut mare prospiciens odioso concita vento §19.22Corripio verbis aequora paene tuis; §19.23Aut, ubi saevitiae paulum gravis unda remisit, §19.24Posse quidem, sed te nolle venire, queror; §19.25Dumque queror lacrimae per amantia lumina manant, §19.26Pollice quas tremulo conscia siccat anus.
Either I whisper about you with my hoary nurse, and wonder what cause delays your journey; or, looking out at the sea stirred up by the hateful wind, I chide the waters almost with your own words; or, when the heavy wave has relaxed its cruelty a little, I complain that you can indeed come, but are unwilling; and while I complain, tears trickle down through my loving eyes, which the knowing old woman dries with a trembling thumb.
§19.27Saepe tui specto si sint in litore passus, §19.28Inpositas tamquam servet harena notas; §19.29Utque rogem de te et scribam tibi, siquis Abydo §19.30Venerit, aut, quaero, siquis Abydon eat.
Often I look to see if your steps are on the shore, as if the sand preserved the marks impressed upon it; and that I may ask about you and write to you, if anyone has come from Abydos, or I inquire if anyone is going to Abydos.
Why should I relate how many times I give kisses to the garments which you lay aside when about to go into the Hellespontic water?
§19.33Sic ubi lux acta est et noctis amicior hora §19.34Exhibuit pulso sidera clara die, §19.35Protinus in summo vigilantia lumina tecto §19.36Ponimus, adsuetae signa notamque viae, §19.37Tortaque versato ducentes stamina fuso §19.38Feminea tardas fallimus arte moras.
Thus when the light is spent and the friendlier hour of night has displayed the bright stars, having driven away the day, straightway we place watchful lights on the top of the roof, the signs and mark of the accustomed way, and drawing the twisted threads from the spinning spindle, we beguile the slow delays with feminine art.
§19.39Quid loquar interea tam longo tempore, quaeris?
Do you ask what I speak of meanwhile in so long a time?
§19.40Nil nisi Leandri nomen in ore meo est.
Nothing but the name of Leander is in my mouth.
'Do you think, nurse, that my joy has already gone out of the house, or are all awake, and does he fear his own kin?
§19.43Iamne suas umeris illum deponere vestes, §19.44Pallade iam pingui tinguere membra putas?' §19.45Adnuit illa fere; non nostra quod oscula curet, §19.46Sed movet obrepens somnus anile caput.
Do you think he is already laying aside his garments from his shoulders, already anointing his limbs with rich olive oil?' She nods almost in assent; not that she cares for our kisses, but creeping sleep moves her aged head.
§19.47Postque morae minimum 'iam certe navigat,' inquam, §19.48'Lentaque dimotis bracchia iactat aquis. ' §19.49Paucaque cum tacta perfeci stamina terra, §19.50An medio possis, quaerimus, esse freto.
And after the least delay I say, 'Now surely he is swimming, and is tossing his pliant arms, parting the waters.' And when I have finished a few threads, the spindle touching the ground, we ask whether you can be in the middle of the sea.
§19.51Et modo prospicimus, timida modo voce precamur, §19.52Ut tibi det faciles utilis aura vias; §19.53Auribus incertas voces captamus, et omnem §19.54Adventus strepitum credimus esse tui.
And now we look out, now we pray with a timid voice, that a helpful breeze may give you easy paths; we catch at uncertain sounds with our ears, and believe every noise to be that of your arrival.
Thus when the greatest part of the beguiled night has been spent for me, sleep stealthily creeps over my weary eyes.
Perhaps, wicked one, you sleep with me nevertheless against your will, and although you yourself are unwilling to come, you come.
§19.59Nam modo te videor prope iam spectare natantem, §19.60Bracchia nunc umeris umida ferre meis, §19.61Nunc dare, quae soleo, madidis velamina membris, §19.62Pectora nunc nostro iuncta fovere sinu
For now I seem to see you already swimming nearby, now to feel your wet arms around my shoulders, now to give coverings, as I am wont, to your wet limbs, now to warm your breast joined to my bosom.
And many things besides, to be kept silent by a modest tongue, which it is a pleasure to have done, but a shame to relate when done.
§19.65Me miseram! brevis est haec et non vera voluptas;
Wretched me!
§19.66Nam tu cum somno semper abire soles.
This pleasure is brief and not real; for you are always wont to depart along with sleep.
Oh, let us eager lovers at last unite more firmly, nor let our joys lack true constancy!
§19.69Cur ego tot viduas exegi frigida noctes?
Why have I spent so many widowed nights in the cold?
§19.70Cur totiens a me, lente morator, abes?
Why are you so often absent from me, slow delayer?
§19.71Est mare, confiteor, non nunc tractabile nanti;
The sea, I confess, is not now manageable for a swimmer;